Marissa Von Bleicken leaned up against her apartment's wall, arms crossed, trying her hardest not to swallow the tears that were steadily streaming down her face. Her eyes were fixed onto the floor and remained there when she heard the click of the door, even though her heart practically lurched up to her throat.

"Hey, babe, sorry I'm late. I got us some takeout," announced her boyfriend, Samuel, as he approached her with a shake of his long dread locks. Her eyes flickered up to his face for a brief moment, and saw confusion in his eyes as her took her in. Those beautiful eyes could melt away her resolve for just about anything. Not this, though.

"Marissa, what's wrong?" His concern was evident, and Marissa felt a fresh wave of wetness surface her face. God, how was she suppose to deal with this? She couldn't even bring herself to look up, let alone speak. But she tried.

"I know," she managed in a croaky whisper, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Maybe it isn't true. Maybe it's all in my head. But the mantra wasn't working, since there was really no denying the evidence; the traces of perfume on his shirt that didn't belong to her, all his "extra shifts" at work, the excuses, always the excuses. And now this?

"What are you talking about?" he asked softly, but she saw something flash across his face. Something she could only define as panic. And suddenly she wanted to rip out those dread locks, thread by hideous thread.

"I know!" she exploded, pushing herself off the wall, leveling him. "She left a message for you on the fucking answering machine!"

At that Samuel's usually tanned complexion paled a couple of shades, and he reeled around, a hand to his mouth. "Oh god," he gasped hoarsely, and Marissa felt a chocking sob escape her. But when he tried to apologize, she snapped.

"Don't! Don't even try, you bastard!" she screamed loudly, so loud she wouldn't be surprised if a neighbor or two called the police soon. "Stop pretending like you give a shit about me and just go back to your whore already!"

"Marissa, it meant nothing, please listen to me," he begged, but his attempts were rewarded with a stinging slap.

"Get out! Just get the hell out and don't ever come back!" she screamed, her vision becoming increasingly blurry. She could barely see Samuel's outline as he stared at her for a few more beats, then left out the door. That's when Marissa crumpled to the floor.

Sitting with her head buried deep in her knees, she let the pain rip right through her and sobbed harder than she thought she was capable of.

A/N

Righy then.. A little bit of an angsty start here. So this story doesn't really have anything to do with Glee, I just got this weird plot bunny about Samuel and Marissa dating in the future, and this happening.. not meaning to offend Samuel lovers or anything. So for the sake of this story, Damian won the Glee Project (because let's be honest, that's gonna happen) and him and Cameron are roommates living in New York City. Samuel and Marissa live somewhere close to them. Well, that's about it... if you somehow read this whole, bombastic note then props to you and I'm hoping you can review it if you've already put this much effort in.. And I'm done!